Loving Joke
by animefreak3851
Summary: A new beginning, more minds to explore. The real question is, can the Joke be ignore?
1. Chapter 1

Dim lights rattled in the cavernous hall of the Asylum. The clicking of the new doctors heals echoed profoundly. _Jeez, No wonder no one leaves this place. S_ he straightenedthe loose fringe of hair at the front of her face. Stopping to lookinto  
theobservation window, she examed the outfit she wore, button down ruffled blouse, mid-calf pencil skirt, professional, not flirty, she noted. The long blond locks that normally were worn down, now sat neatly in a sever bun. Clearing her throat  
she openedhercase file.

A small photo of a man stared back at her. Tinted green locks sat casually over his left brow. _He coulda been a real lady killer._ Flipping the photo over the following pages read:

Identity: Unknown

Alias: "The Joker"

Height: 6 foot 2 inches

Weight: 130 lbs

Eye Colour: Hazel

Race: White

Arrest Date: 11/15/2000

12/13/2014:

 _Session 24:Patient has become antisocial, and uncorropertive. Every question I ask is answered with laughter. I fear there isn't enough cognitive therapy to help settle this man's mind._

12/20/2014:

 _Session 25: Patient was quiet during today's session. His deminor sober, when he did speak he only whispered: "your time is up Doc; time to pack up and move on" I don't know how much more of this I can take._

Clearing her throat she opened the door to face her patient. The man was handcuffed to the chair."Huh?" The Joker looked her over head to toe. "Oh, you must be the new Doc." The Joker let out a laugh.

"Uh-" Pausing she looked him over, his arms were restrained for her safety no doubt. His lips curving into a grin that settled above a sharply point chin. _Oh ya, he coulda been a lady killa._ "Yes. My name is Doctor Harleen Quinzel" Harleen  
satacross from him. Opening her file she looked it over once more.

"Harleen Quinzel, you say? Mind if I call you Harley Quinn, you can be my new pal."

"Yea, I do." She said shortly. "I didn't go to school fah nothin."

His thin lips curved into smile, "Harley Quinn" he chanted his fingers tapping the sides of his chair.

"I don't seem to have a name in your file, what is your birth name?"

"Oh, I don't know, you know Harley, you can call me Joker."

"Doctor Quinzel-" she corrected again

" _Doctor-_ " he mocked "If we can't be pals then you can call me Mister The Joker."

She let out a small laugh. "Who were you before you were 'Mister The Joker'. Where did you grow up?"

"Oh, Doc, I've always been here, in Gotham. But I was no one. You could say I was a Joke!" Cackling filled the room, as he threw his head back.

 _He's fascinating._ Harleen watched him over her pen. "Tell me, why are you here?"

His frost greeneyes locked on her, like a cat stalking its prey. " Didn't you hear? I'm crazy. A real twisted basturd. No one warned you about me Doc?"

"Should I have been warned?" Doctor Quinzel made several notes in the open file, of course she knew who he was. A criminal, a sick man who needed help. His victims were the run of the mill thugs usually. She'd heard him referred to as 'the king of Gotham'his  
crimes ran the ballot she develed deeper intohis file. Arson, murder, theift, assault, not the type of man her father would approve of if he found out she was associating with, even if it was just as a patient. "Do you like to kill?" She askedpoint  
blank.

"Do I like to kill?" He repeated, the Joker's head tilted slightly. "Kill what? Dreams? Fantasies?"

"People." Harleen leaned across the table, studying his expression. "Do you like to kill people Mister The Joker?"

Furrowing his brow he leaned as close as his restraints allowed. "Do I like to kill people... let me think...

* * *

People die, Doctor. All the time, in fact." His voice trailed off almost to a whisper. "What difference does it make if I help them to the grave? They weren't very nice people, the ones I helped, were they?"

Harleen cleared her throat, suddenly uncomfortable at the mere inches between them. Sitting straight again to regain her composure, she glanced down at the paper breaking eye contact with the patient. "Who have you 'helped' men? Women? Children?" She  
/prompted jotting down a few more notes.

"You see in my line of work you don't come across many women, and certainly not children. Harley-"

"Doctor." She corrected again.

" _Doctor,_ what brought you to my little corner of hell?" Leaning back he studied her from down his nose.

"I want to help. I want to cure you." She stated simply.

"Cure me? I'm not sick little girl. Im just twisted."

Standing Harleen scooped up the file andturned on her heel and walked to the door. Her hand touched the door. "I'll see you next week. Mister The Joker" She called over her shoulder.


	2. Chapter 2

The warden glanced up from his work as the newest employee entered the room. Looking her over he smiled gruffly. "So, what do you think?"

Blue eyes met tired brown ones thoughtfully. "The Joker is-" she searched her expansive vocabulary. "-captivating... I've never encountered a mind like his."

His stare was harsh, he had no doubt if anyone could prove The Joker's mind it would be the best mind to comefrom Gotham University in nearly 20 years."The Joker is an enigma. Don't get to close." He warned, "He's a charming son of a bitch.

I have another patient for you. A brillant young doctor. She's found herself here due to some emotionalproblems." His calloused hands clasped a Manella folder, this one was much thinner than the last one she was given.

The blondetook the folder and opened to the first page. A mass of fiery red waves and porcelain skin stared up at her. "Doctor Pamela Isley. AKA Poison Ivy." Harleen's blue eyes scanned the file. "How does the leading biochemical botanist become

emotionally desturbed?"

"Dr. Isley is still the most renound biochemical scientist the coast has to offer. After a sever mishap in the lab involving her colleague. Pamela found herself suffering from both mood swings and rage problems due to the natural of the organic poisons  
/they'd been working with. Out of all of the patients she's one of the most trustworthy. But still be careful, she's extremely unstable." The warden eyed small doctor.

Azure eyes never wavered from the report. She nodded in acknowledgment. "Where is she located?"

"The green house."

* * *

Harleen walked through Arkham's ground. There was no pavement she noted, no basketball hoops or courts. Instead was perfectly manicured grass, topiaries and various ever-blooming flowers. The asylum was once a boardingschool,throughoutninteenth

century it held accolades in almost every specialized subject it schoolhad been known as Arkham Insitution for the academically gifted, renound at the time for its science and pre med programs. The lack of pavement on the ground

showed what kind of studentsthis prestigiousInstitute once held.

During the depression the school closed it's doors for good, without money in circulation moving freely education took the back seat as the need to surivive took the wheel. As hospital wards overflowed the city took a renewed interest in the Insitute,  
/although this time the word "insitution" had a very different connotation to it.

Blue eyes flashed to the sign above opaque glass doors "conservitory" it stated simply. This particular building held the same goth style as the rest of the has-been school, but it instead of being stories tall it stood a mere 9 feet above the ground.  
/Doctor Quinzell grasped the steel handle and pulled open the door. The worn hinges protested the invasion. Stepping on the the step below she pulled the door shut and it closed the a soft thud. Reaching up the blonde fixed her hair and tugged at her  
/blouse. The conservatory descended another 6 feet before a second door with frosted glass held the remnance of letters. Pushing the heavy door open, azure eyes widened with astonishment.

Lush vines clung to the walls small trees and large shrubs all held various shades of green that were held on the spectrumfrom seafoam to emerald. Quinzell could hardly think of words to describe exactly what colours she was looking at. Walking  
slowly she examined the space, Magenta orchids, jade vine, electricIkebanas, lavender Passion flowers. Stopping she reach out and touched a plant she didn't recognize, the scent was hypnotic, the plants pitcher like body held a heart shaped  
opening, the inside a vibrant shade of pink that more subdued then neon but to bright to be called Persian pink. "Ow!" The blonde whined as she pulled away. Blood bubbled on the tips of her fingers from what seemed to be a hundred different places.

 _"Nepenthes lowii._ At least that's what it used to be." A quiet laugh said, as if appearing from no where."Becareful, one should not touch, what one knows nothing about." Harleen spun around to meet face to face with the woman who claimed  
the title of the"least dangerous" on the list of the most dangerous criminals the world had to offer.

Harleen took in this object of immense and violent package that was wrapped inpure sexual desire. Pamela Isley stood a whopping 6 foot tall. She was all leg that met a well rounded hip, tucked in waist and a cup size that could cause an athlete  
to have a heart attack. Pamela's porclian skin was surrounded by an ocean of fiery red waves reaching past her shoulders, her emerald eyes took up just the right amount of her face. Her widows peak aligned perfectly with what Harleen swore on anyone  
else has to be surgically created. But seeing how Pamela killed any man who dare touch her, the blonde seriously doubted it.

"You're right." She sighed looking back at her finger. Pamela's _perfect_ hand reached out gently grabbed Harleen's own. She rubbed the blood on the plant where the psychiatrist swore the plant absorbed it immediately.

"Doctor Pamela Isley." The red head stated, "I apologize about my pet, it seems she was hungry."

Harleen squirmed under the weight of Isley's green eyes. She suddenly felt like a teenage again, a frumpy teenager. Where her patient stood tall and elegant, Harleen stood almost a foot shorter then the other Doctor. Her pear shaped body left much to  
be desired the the chest region, but her hips were a solid size 16. Pamela _must_ be a size 5 she thought. "Doctor Harleen Quinzell. I'll be your cognitive therapist, I'll also be taking over your case."

Waving her hand nonchalantly the ginger turned and elegantly walked to the other side of the green house. "I specialize in all plant life that's beautiful. But be careful. We bite."

"We?" Doctor Quinzell prompted she she removed a notepad and paper from her file bag.

"Yes," Pamela sighed, "these lovely creations are mine own. They are my children, and I protect them." The red head stated as she gently rubbed her nose on an oceananic blue Lilly.

"Do you consider yourself a plant?" The blond asked scribbling down notes.

"Oh dear Doctor Quinzell. Haven't you read my file?" Pamela enticed a tree limb closer to the interloper who dared cross _her_ threshold. Pamela sent the doctor a smoldering look. "Do you know what I can do?" She hissed. "I _am_ the  
trees, I _am_ the grass. I _am_ the child of Gaia herself. She plucked me from her womb and placed me here." The vines and trees encroached on the good doctor with every word.

"Whoa." Harleen breathed looking at the sudden growth of the vegitation around her. Stepping back, shenearly fell over a tree limb. "I thought it was a hyperbole." The blonde's fear was evident before she straightened herself. The psychiatrist's  
morbid curiousity took over. "What else can yado?"

The ginger's angry flame was exstingusted. "What?" She laughed out loud. "I control all vegitation, I can do anything."

"Huh." The blonde eyed the green goddess. "Why are you so special, everyone else is locked in little cells and here ya are with an entire ARMY at yagreen finger tips."

Pamela shrugged, "its easier this way, the warden keeps his men alive and I... well. Get the better end of the deal... to be left alone." Her emerald eyes held wickedness.

"How many did you kill?"

"16."

Harleen nodded. "I'll see you next week Pamela."

"As a doctor I expect you know how much work was put into get it. I'll return the gesture."

Harleen nodded the request was reasonable, and if she could deal with _Mr. The Joker_ then she could deal with _Doctor_ Isley. After all, the doctor was crazy, not condisending and mean. Grinning Harleen extended her hand. "I'll see you next  
Tuesday Dr. Isley."

The green goddess smiled politely. "I look forward to it."


	3. Chapter 3

A long curl escaped from a loose bun barely holding back a mess of blonde hair. Harleen's blue eyes glanced at her palette. Swirling a fat oval brush through her own concotion of slimey-limey green, the Doctor used sweeping motions to create a beautifulswoop  
/reminancent of a 1950's swing singer. The new addition to her canvas created the outline of her new project, both metaphorically and literally. Dropping thebrush into water she spun in her chair. Standing she padded across the floor of her

/loft. Dropping her head to the side she stared at the outline she'd created: strong jaw line, check. High cheek bones, check. Beautiful but oddly coloured hair, check. This man's mind was a puzzle, one she wanted to explore. Every turn and every

deadend. "Ya know," she said outloud to no one inparticular. "Art is a great outlet. It helps all sorts of people." Nodding in agreement to herself. She packed her supplies into a tote and hummed before settling back before her canvas.

* * *

noshade=""

Rattling his chains rythmically The Joker hummed a tune. Turning the corner he caught a glimpse of his latest obsession. Through the observation window he took in the soft curve of feminine hips contained by a tight pencil skirt. She bent over a bag rummaging  
/around. "Listen." A barratone voice interrupted his thoughts. Irritated his frosted green eyes raked over the correctional officer. "The Doc has decided to try a new form of therapy for you. Try anything funny. We will take you down." Confused the  
/Jokeropened his mouth. But the sound of his shackles falling away shut him up. A wicked grin spread across his face. Waking into the roomhe took in all the glory that was Doctor Harleen Quinzell, short, feminine and eyes that bore through him.  
/He

could live without being a specimen under those eyes. He'd been imagining what madness would look like in those azure orbs. She seemed so young. So innocent. He wanted to corrupt her. He wanted to bring her to the brink of madness, hold her through  
/before throwing her to the wind. "Hmm, hello Puddin." He cooed.

Startled Harleen jumped. "Now, that's not very appropriate. It's Doctor Quinzell." She accused annoyance crossed her face. "I'd planned somethin' nice for our session today, and now ya gonna ruin it." Sitting straight backed in a chair. The Joker couldn't  
/help but stare his fingers itched to touch those blonde locks. What would she look like with her hair down? Was her skin as soft as it looked?

"Are ya gonna sit down?" Snapping out of his stupor for the second time his frosted eyes wondered the room noticing for the first time that there were easels set up a myriad of paints were set up on the table. Along with two palettes.

"Aww, we gonna do arts and crafts?" A light taunt left his lips. Swinging his legs around the back of his chair his grin only widening as he reached for his palette. "What's the topic Doc' my mommy dearest? My past?"

"Nope." stated simply. The blonde was already loading her colours onto her palette. "Just what's ever on your mind." Reaching for her brush she dipped the tip into a beige and white.

Raising an eyebrow he loaded his palette up, yellow, white, blue, turquoise, red and black. "What? No brushes?" The Joker Scoffed.

"Protocol, you should know that by now Joker."

"Mr. The Joker." He corrected as he dipped his fingers into the slimy liquid.

"What made you become a criminal?"

Furrowing his brow The Joker was busy covering his canvas with black and red. Dipping his fingers in the cup of water he smeared the lines. "It's fun" hemumbled. Giving himself a white orb in the middle of his canvas he grinned. "Ya know princess-"

"Doctor." Harleen interrupted.

"I am the king of Gotham, I do what I want, when I want and it would be a crying shame to let that go to waste!" Laughing he glanced up. "I used to be the prince of crime, then I wasbaptized by blood. It's just a shame, all that wasted blood  
and no queen to crown; but then again, every dog has its day, a princess will become queen and thisking will havetheir queen."

Harleen's blue eyes stole a glance madness blanant in his frost eyes that whole focused on her. "You think it will be easy to just walk away from your past after your sentence and treatment has been completed?" Her arms showcased the room they were in.  
"You'll still be tied to this building for appointments, med checks."

"Oh Harley,"

"Harleen."

"The only way I plan on walking away is in a blaze of glory."

"Do you plan on forcing your queen to join you?"

"I'm hoping she'll walk through the flames with me, by my side."


	4. Chapter 4

Harleen's blue eyes wondered over the serious face of the man sitting across from her. She studied him before sketching several more lines. "Do you have parents?" She asked casually.

Furrowing his brows The Joker rubbed his cheek smearing red paint over it. "No, I came from the sky." Sarcasm dripped from his voice.

"Are they alive?" She pressed further ignoring his last comment.

"Why does that matter? You gonna try to guilt trip me doc?" Tearing his eyes away from the blond he reaches for a paper towel and wiped his hands. "Op, looks like our chat is over." Standing he walked around his canvas and stepped behind her. Leaning  
in comfortably close he grinned. His thin lips stretched over his teeth. "Not bad Harley. Not bad." Reaching around her he snatched the canvas and examined the portrait of himself carefully. "Oh yea. This is mine." The Joker walked to the door and  
knocked waiting for the guards to open it.

Harleen opened her mouth to correct her patient. Staring dumbfounded she watched the door open. The guards reached for the canvas.

The Joker pull the canvas to his chest. "Nuh-uh. It's mine big boy." The guards looked at Dr. Quinzel questioning the accuracy of the statement.

Dr. Quinzel nodded still confused by what had just happened. The guards instead took The Joker by the arms and led him away.

Harleen stood shaking her head. Gathering her supplies she dropped them on the bag and jotted down her notes from the session. Glancing at the canvas The Joker had left behind. Crossing her arms she tilted her head. The canvas held amessyblack  
and redargyle pattern. In the middle of the canvas the silhouette of a woman stood hands out behind her and what appeared to be a coxcomb on her head thrown back in escasty. "Hm." She took her phone out of her bag and snapped a photo of the  
piece to add to his file. She slung her bag over shoulder and carefully left for the day.

After unpacking she searched her apartment for an empty place on the wall. Grabbing her tool set she pulled out her hammer and a nail. She carefully pulled over a chair and hung the painting her client did. Nodding, the blond wondered in to her room to  
change for her night at her second job.

The clock beeped eight times. Harleen shook her head and locked her apartment. The night air was cool against her flushed skin. The lights in the club were dimmed, the band's lazysound roamed through the room. The large pianist saw her and smiled.

"Harl!" He called out to her. Stepping up to the mic his deep baritone slipped through the air encompassing all the patrons. "Welcome to The Dealer's Hand. Give a big hand to our newest addition, Harleen!"

Sauntering up the stage Harleen took the mic "Thanks Felix." Her hand took the mic and smiled. "Sit back, relax and enjoy the night." She greeted the crowd. Felix took his bench and played a soft tune. Harleen's soft voice filled the room.

After several songs Harleen and Felix sat at the bar. "What made you open The Dealer's Hand?"

The large man smiled at her and laughed. "Me? No, I'm just taking care of things while the owners away."

"Oh." Big blue eyes widened in surprise. "I just assumed. You act like you own the place." She laughed.

"Nah. This is J's place. I've known him forever. He's... away right now." Felix rubbed his bald head and chuckled.

"When willhe be back?" Raising an elegant brow, Harleen gave him a smug look. "I just would have thought hewould want to have a say in who works at his club."

"You'll meet him soon enough. You're just his type. Saucy."

A laugh escape and Harleen rolled her eyes. "I'll look forward to it."

"Harleen, Felix. You're up!" A voice called. Standing the pair walked to the stage and took their places as jazz tune filled the air.


	5. Chapter 5

J sat in his cell, the canvas leaning up against his wall. This own face stared back at him, _what a wonderful creature she is._ His mind conjured up an image of his blue-eyed beauty. J never cared much for other people, except for his only  
friend, and a very select few of others. This little thing had managed to worm her way into his mind and not only invade but conquer

his thoughts! "Who are you Dr. Quinzel?" He asked out loud.

 _The perfect drug. If you let her._ The little voice in his head whispered. _She could be our answer. We've been so lonely. She could fix the broken pieces._

J nodded thinking over his subconscious' request. "Would she take us?" He questioned his blue eyes closed humming to himself waiting for an answer.

 _Yes!_ The response was sure. _She will have us. She will fix us._

"And if I don't want to be fixed?" His tone was all seriousness.

Laughter filled his mind in response. _If we don't want to be fixed at least we will be insane together._

J shot up out of his bed and his long fingers grasping the bars. Shouting at the top of his lungs he waiting for several long minutes. No footsteps were heard. Several disgruntled patients yelled back at him but no guards seemed to be alerted. His lips  
curled into a grin and he quickly walked across to his bed and sat cross legged on his bed yanking at a stone in the wall. Several small pebbles showered out of the hole putting the stone aside the iced eyed man grabbed a cell phone and quickly typed  
out a message before putting the stone back and lying on his bed with his hands behind his head, laughing hysterically.

* * *

Harleen wondered into her apartment after the club had closed for the night, stretching she fell to her bed, reaching for a small orange bottle, her fingers stumbled around before she heard a small thud as the bottle hit the floor, "Ican take them  
in the morning." She reasoned. Sleep wrapped its arms around her and lulled her off.

The sun broke the horizon and stroked the hound doctor's face. Harleen threw a pillow at the window before contorting herface with disgust and groaning. Sitting up she shook her head and remembered the bottle on the floor. She crawled off the bed and  
looked for the bottle. The white cap stood out in the darkness that her bed created, grasping it she shook the bottle. It was empty. Opening it anyway, she peered-insighed. "I'll have to get you filled today."

* * *

It had been a month now that he had had sessions with Dr. Quinzel. J's icy eyes stared out his small window, the sun was setting. "Hmm, she's late today." He thrummed a tune out on his bed post. A loud creak penetrated the silence. J jumped up and readily  
put his hands out as cold shackles encircled his thin wrists. The green haired man stepped easily into his place in between the guards. He urged the guards faster by standing to near the man in front. The gloomy hall, stank of dampness the lights  
followed a series of loudclicks. The flicker was slow and barely bright enough to create shadows. The window was a beacon, the fluorescent light didn't waiver from the room. J knew she was waiting his beautiful doctor. Her smile was radiant,  
it lit up a room, the way her eyes danced and he couldn't stand it. The thought of her full lips ever losing that smile, boiled rage inside of him. He would dispose of anyone who made her lose that smile. J scowled to himself, the voice bubbled up  
from the depths of his mind.

We can make her happy. We can love her like no other. Better then anyone else. She belongs with us. She will realize had to agree with this voice. He nodded in affirmation. His icy eyes searched the hallway before fixating on the window.  
It seemed like miles his long legs felt sluggish. His patience was wearing thin, "Stop shuffling, I'm late for my appointment." His eyes narrowed as he snapped. The guard glared over his shoulder. But picked up the pace non the less.

The Joker instilled fear in people,he knew this. Hewas in fact well aware. Out of this place he was king, he was feared, he had an army, his name alone made people think twice. Most of all no one dared cross him. He slowly counted the months  
soon he would be out. His sentence was 6 months, today marked 5 months, 2weeks and 5 days. An abrupt stop snapped him back to reality, a sharp tug on his jumper stopped his from running into the front guard. The Joker stood examining the door, it  
was a heavy solid wood, the iron bolts were about 3/4 of an inch in diameter. The hinges were probably near half a century old. The guard grabbed the handle and pulled,the door creaked opened. The bright white was almost blinding, knowing Harleen  
was waiting for him made this room feel more like heaven then a sterile office.

The metal cuffs fell away, before a heavy hand shoved him inside and the door shut heavy behind him. Harleen sat at the far end of the table, a small smile sat on her lips, but the light was dim in her eyes. J took a seat hesitantly at the other end of  
the table. His long fingers knitted together in front of him.

"Hello, Mister The Joker." Her voice was quiet as she observed him. His grin was unstoppable, her sassy pet name for him was one of his favorite things. Under his breastbone his heart swelled, thundering so hard it threatened to break free of its cage.

"Hello Dr. Quinn." The emerald haired patient greeted. "How has your day been?" Joker couldn't hide thesincerity in his voice. Those those beautiful blue doe eyes...looked, well, shit...what do you call it?Dead?The little voice answered. No.  
Not dead...but almost.

Harley glanced upfrom her notes. "Good." She answered quickly nodding in affirmation more to herself J noted.

Long fingers curled away from themselves and propped his head up. "What are we doing today doc? Painting, singing, drawing, poetry?" Joker observed Harleen closely. Her shoulders slumped slightly forward making her chest sink in. Her normally pristine  
hair seemed to tumble half-heartedly down her cheeks. Those bright baby blues seemed faded, and those lips he always thought about weren't smiling like they normally do, a frown had taken up residence blouse was slightly wrinkled, and her normal heels  
were no where to be found, instead scuffed flats graced her feet.

"I didn't have anything planned for today, I've been distracted lately." The psychiatrist admitted. "I figured, we could just talk about what's on your mind."

J nodded, he waited a long moment before saying the first thing that came to his head. "Have you ever thought about dying,Doc?"

Harleen tilted her head to the side. "Do you mean like, do I think of the afterlife?"

"No, have you ever wanted to die?"

"We all die one day Joker."

"That's not what I mean and you know it." Joker was pretending to be bored like her answer meant nothing to him, but he was on the edge of his seat. He watched as she pondered, her eyes still dim and downcast, her chin followed suit.

"Yeah," her answer was earnest. "I think about it. I think about how great it would be to be free of responsibility. How no one would miss me. That when I'm gone I can't mess anything up anymore or make mistakesanymore." She lifted her chin defiantly,  
her eyes locked with The Joker's. "But when I hit my lowest, that the only way I can go is up. Dying never been a definitive answer for me J, it's more like a fire escape, and I for sure don't want to have to jump to the bottom."

Her honesty shook him to the core. His hammering heart stood still, J had seen a glimpse of fire in her eyes, her lust for life, was still there, although for some reason it was buried. I'll make sure you never want to die he vowed silently. We willkill  
anyone who makes her feel that way. Thevoice had grown dark, The Joker silently acknowledged how true those words were. "This is our last meeting."

Dr. Quinzell opened her mouth to answer but a quick rap on the door had her telling the intruder to enter their sanctuary. A quick scowl crossed his face before he saw one of his men holding a single redrose enter the room. Relaxing, the Joker smirked  
as the flower was handed to his lady. Harleen's entire demeanor brightened, a huge smile graced her face and she stared lovingly at the flower. "Who's it from?" J inquired, suppressinghis delight at her reaction.

"I have no idea, I've been receiving one, everyday, for the past few weeks." Harleen gently stroked the petals. "Sometimes it's red, sometimes it's purple, sometimes it's green, and I've even gotten a black one." She pressed the rose to her nose and inhaled  
deeply. "The card always says the same thing: Life's just a game, laugh while you can. Keep smiling beautiful." Looking up theireyes collided, The Joker's breath was trapped in his lungs. God damnit, she was perfect, like a fucking angel.

"I know I should be creeped out by it, but to be honest... they make my day. I walk into the club before we open and there it is, waiting for me at the bar, or in my office. I first accused Felix of sending them, but he swears it's not him, that I have  
an admirer somewhere."

J's breath left in a little rush, excitement bubbled in his chest knowing that he enjoyed such a simple thing."Wow, that's something. You work at a club?"

Nodding Harleen looked back to her rose, "I sing at night, it's just a little place." Her shoulders shrugged thinking of her beloved little club. "It's just a small place, it's slow and jazzy, classic but very cool. It's usually a busy place but I don't  
know how big it's name isin city."

The Joker nodded, "Sounds like my kinda place. I'll check it out one day, me and my buddy. What's it called?"

"The Dealer's hand. It's off the center of the city, like I said it's just a small place."

The door opened and the guards walked through J stood and obediently allowed the cuffs to be affixed to his arms. J beamed at his psychiatrist, a smile plastered to his face. "See you around Doc!"

Harleen quickly shoved her things in her bag before nearly running after her patient. "Joker! What did you mean that this was our last meeting?" She reached into her mind and flipped through his file mentally, no history of depression of suicidal thoughts.

J's laugh echoed throughout the hall, "I'm free, Darlin'. I'll be gone by the time our next meeting comes around."

Staring after her patient, Harleen couldn't help but smile, the thought of seeing Mister The Joker on the outside was in someway exciting, what would he be like out there? She acknowledged that if She every did see him out there he would probably never  
talk to her, but the idea of him ever being let out of here hadn't crossed her mind as reality. Her smile suddenly fell, why was The Joker in Arkham anyway?


	6. Chapter 6

A week had past since their last meeting. Harley sighed arranging her bouquet of roses absently. She looked around her small office, she kept it plain not wanting to make it to comfortable, after all this was work. A small knock came before the door swung open. "Dr. Quinzell?" A smooth tenor inquired.

Looking up from her roses she saw Arkham's head of psychiatry, Dr. Jonathon Crane. Her smile faulted. Although she met him a few times she almost felt like a child being caught red handed. "Uh, yea Dr. Crane. Can I help you?"

The director walked through the door, "I would like to discuss The Joker's course of treatment with you." His hands squared the chair in front of Harleen's desk firmly. Dr. Crane was a terrified man. His black eyes held a note of what Harleen had decided was sadism. Anyone he talked to felt like an insect under examination. His pomador hairstyle was never out of place. The impeccable black suit he wore hid well defined muscles wrapping like rope around his bones.

Harleen squirmed suddenly uneasy. "Sure Doctor-"

"Please, call me Jonathon." He interrupted her mid-sentence. Perfect white teeth flashed in what would have been a lady killing smile if Harleen was interested.

Nodding the blond motioned to the chair as she sank into her own. "Doc- Jonathon," She corrected. "How can I help?" She pulled out the file and handed it to him.

His eyes skimmed over the information, notes and even the art projects that the petit woman has him do. "This is excellent work Doctor, tell me about the man himself."

Harleen found herself stroking the roses in front of her. "He's an incredible case. The sociopathic tendencies he displays are subtle, almost not noticeable to the untrained eye. He has the ability to compartmentalize his emotions, thoughts to the point were I'm not sure if he was even the same person sometimes. All of his artwork is almost lonely, like his world is desolate and..." pausing she cleared her throat. "Entirely imagined." She shifted uncomfortably breaking eye contacted with her boss.

"Interesting. You are the first psychiatrist who has made any progress with him." Jonathon handed the file back to its owner. "He was released to today." He informed her. "I need to know what his plans are, who he is closed to, what does he care most about."

"Jonathon. I don't know that information. He mentioned having a buddy. But that's all I know."

The brunette man scoffed, "Surely you know something. Just tell me what you know." He suddenly leaned forward making the blonde feel like he was invading her space.

"Dr. Crane, if I had that information it would be in my notes. The Joker didn't discuss that." She tried to sound pointed.

Dr. Crane's eyes narrowed, "Understood." His voice held a hidden venom that made The blonde shiver. "I also understand that you sing at a club."

The blond nodded slowly. "I do, The Dealer's Hand." She supplied growing increasingly wary. "Every Weekend."

Jonathon stood abruptly. "Maybe I'll stop by to see you perform." Turning on his heel he waved a good bye and left.

Blue eyes turned to the clock suddenly shaking from the interaction. How could such a soft spoken man be to intimidating. Harleen snatched her belongings and quickly left her office glancing back at the flowers on her desk. Shaking her head she closed the door locking it behind her.

—

The night sky grew darker, a wide smile cracked J's pale face. He smoothed his suit jacket. Staring out the window of the second floor suite. It had been to long since he had been in his own suite, his businesses had been flourishing thanks to his right hand. Rolling his head J left the room and jaunted down the stairs only to be stopped by several of his men saying they were glad to see him. The Joker slapped them on the back and continued down. He surveyed the dimly lit room, it was full as usual, a piano playing softly adding to the lull of low voices in the intimate setting.

J maneuvered his way to the bar taking his normal seat in the middle. "Hey Boss, glad to have you back." Took his glass of whiskey and raised it to the barkeep.

"Where's the entertainment Felix?" J asked watching the stage, raising the glass to his lips.

"Backstage, she'll be out any minute. But Boss, keep an eye out there may be trouble." The Joker followed the man's gaze where it fell on a tall well muscled man his face impassive as he swirled a glass of the darkest wine the bar offered.

"What the fuck is he doing here?" His hazel eyes glued to the suspect.

"I'm not sure. But I don't trust it Boss. I've canceled all correspondence for the night." Felix's open plan hit the bar and drew The Joker's attention to the stage.

His heart stopped as a petit blonde took the stage her hair was curled and the ends spotted red and black tips. J's breath hitched as he took in the entire scene. A black dress clung to the singer's curves the red diamond accents came diagonally across her breast drawing his attention, it was obvious a slit stopped mid thigh, exposing a ruby stiletto.

"Ain't She something?" Felix bragged. "I hired herself, Boss."

The Joker nodded, her plum painted lips smiled coyly and her hooded blue eyes could seduce any man she wanted. The Joker sat and listened as she started to sing. Her voice could easily be mistaken for a 1950's artist. His whiskey swirled absently, his attention was wholly on the woman in front of him, wishing she was singing just for him.

The set came to a close and the singer left the stage walking towards he bar. "Let me introduce you to her." Felix waved the woman over.

"No need." J stood and left the bar finding a vantage point to watch the floor. His smile fell as he noticed the brunette man sauntering over to intercept his singer. Scowling he reached for the phone sending out the alert to be watchful over the singer's chosen company.

—

Dr. Crane sat in the darkest corner of the small club. This club was a facade he knew that. He would have never stepped foot in here if it hadn't have been for the curvy woman on the stage, he was sure she held the information he required. His eyes never left the singer, her voice was addicting. It disgusted him. Jonathon had been trying to get his hands on the Joker for sometime. During his incarceration he could never make his move, he wanted to pick the man apart, test his serum on the one man it would fail on, if it affected The Joker he was sure it would affect the Bat as well. He was pushing the edge of science trying to find how the brain processed fear most effectively. Could fear break through even the most constrained compartments in the most fractured mind?

Jonathon contemplated as he straightened his suit jacket. Calculating the best course intercept his employee. "Dr. Quinzell." He called reaching for her shoulder. His firm grip making her jump.

"Uh, Doc- Jonathon. What are you doing here?" Harley's throat tightened. This man has been becoming far to interested in her for her liking.

"I told you I would come see you perform." He deadpanned. His black state to intent and focused. Harley was like a deer in headlights about to witness her own death. The blonde was sure of it as she nodded slowly to her boss.

"Thanks." She tried to back away turning towards Felix and the bar, her eyes searching for a way out. She started to make her way towards the bar acutely aware that Dr. Crane was behind her.

Harley took her place in the middle of the bar. Felix appeared holding several emerald roses. "Beautiful as always Harley." Smiling softly she took the roses and admired them. The blue eyed woman almost forgot the dread she felt around Dr. Crane who cleared his throat. Snapping out of her daydream she waved to the seat next to her.

Sinking onto the bar stool Jonathon eyed the roses. "Who's the lucky man?"

Harley imagined the man was trying to be playful but it was lost on her. "I don't know." She told him looking up. Gently placing the flowers on the counter she looked up at him. "How can I help you Dr. Crane?"

Felix listened to the small talk the man tried to make with his singer. Glancing up he saw the boss looking down on his usual seat his face stoney with murder in his eyes. Felix shook his head. "This isn't good." He muttered to one of the crewmen. "Keep an eye on them. Follow him." His voice tumbled low in his chest speaking so only the man he was talking to could hear, with a brief nod the man disappeared into the crowd and reappeared several seats from Harley.

—

The Joker watching as Harley received a small bouquet her face lit up as she admired them almost hugging them to her chest. The man next to her soured his mood. Dr. Crane, head of psychiatry at Arkham Asylum sat next to his favorite blonde.

His intense Hazel eyes stared intently at the Doctor, noting how Crane seemed to lean closer to the petite female. His stature dwarfing her. The large bald man knocked in the counter in front of her motioning for her to leave. His eyes flicked to the man who nodded inclined his chin at The Joker.

From his vantage point he could see his entire club. It was small, cozy, more importantly, easily defendable. J watched as Dr. Quinzell took her flowers and left, meeting one of his men at the door who walked her out. Dr. Crane followed a few minutes later and another one of his men followed suit. He sauntered out of the room and his muscles tense ready to fight.

J knew there was something wrong with his head, but that guy was definitely not there as well. Taking his seat at the bar. He found Felix was next to him in an instant. "He was just talking to her." The stocky man informed the boss. "She looked uncomfortable. She was grateful for the short shift." J nodded as the man spoke.

—

Harley laughed as one of the bouncers walked her to her car. It had been established when she first was hired she would have an escort to her car, Gotham was a dangerous place Felix liked to remind her.

Pulling off her heels she made her way up the stairs to her apartment. Kicking the door shut Harley hummed as she set the flowers in her vase discarding the half dead ones. Humming to herself she changed quickly into her painting clothes before sitting down at her canvas.

—

Jonathon parked on the opposite of the street several doors down. He watched Dr. Quinzell walk into her building. Several lights flicked on and off in various rooms. Getting out of the car he stalked his way towards the building. His thoughts whipped through his mind as it raced with excitement. He quieted his footfalls as he padded through the hallway. He eased the door open and stood in the 2 bedroom apartment. He quickly pulled out a rag and a bottle of clear liquid. Padding through the apartment he took in everything looking for anything that may have hinted that the Joker was somewhere nearby.

He stood directly behind the blonde reaching out he covered her mouth with the damp cloth, muffling a scream. He held her body close as she struggled before the drug took over. He tucked the cloth into his pocket before lifting her in his arms and leaving the apartment. He placed the unconscious woman in the back seat closing the door quickly. He reclined the seat as a a black charger stroller passed. Waiting briefly to make sure his leave was undetected the man started his car and took off towards Arkham.

A stone building came into view it was a block from the asylum, the doctor didn't dare take her to his full facility in the catacombs to much of a risk of exposing his work should she escape, which he didn't foresee. Pulling into the small garage the doctor handed the woman to a shaking man. He controlled his men through fear. He didn't need or want to respect them when he could control them.

The woman was deposited on the the floor in a small room. The windows were boarded so know light could seep in and with a click the door was locked.

—

Harleen woke up with a pounding headache the only light she saw was coming from the crack under the door. Her head spun as she attempted to stand, the floor lurched below her as she reached for the light. Her fingers found the cool wood of a door. Quickly she found the handle and pushed. The door was locked. She grasped the small knob with both hands and shook. Her hands trembled as she withdrew them only to slam them on the door demanding her release. Her body shook as the realization sunk in that she was stuck, she had been kidnapped. Doubling her efforts Harleen screamed as she slammed her fist on the door. Only when she had lost her voice did she empty the contents of her stomach on the floor and curl in on her self in the corner farthest from the light.


End file.
